Take it From Me
by Booshea831
Summary: Based on one of the final scenes in Battle of the Five Armies. This is what I thought should have happened, not because I dislike Tauriel, but because idk, I thought it'd be fitting.


**A/N: I wrote this as soon as I saw Battle of the Five Armies. I thought that this would have been a very fitting end to the Tauriel/Kili love story, and was disappointed when what I thought was going to happen did not, so here it is, for your enjoyment and mine!**

 **Warning: Character Death**

 **Disclaimer: If I owned this, Tauriel would not have existed, even though I warmed up to her as the movies went on. Everything belongs to Tolkien.**

 **Enjoy!**

He had banished her. She had raised her bow to him. And yet, as he watched her grieve the young dwarf in her arms, he couldn't help the pity welling in his heart. He knew then that he'd been wrong. One could not mourn so terribly without the love they felt being true.

He knew from experience.

Tauriel barely looked up when he emerged from the crumbling archway, tear-filled eyes falling back to Kili's closed ones. "Why does it hurt so much?"

His eyes softened as her forehead fell to touch the fallen dwarf's, "Because it was real."

Her gaze moved back to him, eyes widened in surprise as the tears continued to fall. Never let it be said that Thranduil king does not feel anything. The approval shown in his eyes was enough for her head to fall back to the dwarf's, lightly brushing her lips on his cold ones.

She held him closer, "If this is love, I do not think I want it. Please take it from me." Her eyes raised back to him and for a moment he doubted her meaning. Surely she could not mean truly to take it from her.

His aged eyes took in her appearance carefully. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat, eyes glistening with tears with a hollow look to them. Kili was on her lap, wrapped carefully in her arms and it was then he noticed she had no intention of moving.

It was common knowledge that elves lived forever, essentially, unless fatally wounded or killed in battle. An elf could fade, it was possible, from immense grief. Otherwise, the elves sailed to the Grey Havens to live out their immortality with little cares or worries.

Tauriel had no notion of sailing, he could see very easily.

Which meant she would most certainly fade, and it seemed she was inclined to do so in the very place she sat with the dwarf in her lap.

"Please, take it from me."

Her eyes were pleading, full of grief and longing and something that could not be healed by any elven healer or time itself.

Tauriel's eyes lay on the sword clasped to his belt and back to his eyes, and the meaning of her words hit him like the blow of a morgul blade. She truly did mean to take it from her.

Permanently.

"I can not live without him."

His hand came to grip the hilt of the sword and Tauriel lowered her gaze back to the dwarf. It was forbidden to raise a weapon to your kin, but Thranduil knew she would not come back from this. She would suffer, endlessly, uselessly, until she faded or, took her own life.

There was nothing for him to do. She wished it.

"Do you truly mean-"

She raised her gaze once more, "I do. My king, I ask this one favor of you though I do not deserve it. If not, I would throw myself from the tower."

The sound of his sword unsheathing was loud in the stillness, the weight of what he was to do, what he must do, crushing him. He had let Legolas go, with the knowledge his son would return to him one day, but there would be no return for Tauriel.

"Legolas will never forgive me."

Tauriel smiled without moving her gaze, "He will know why. He will understand. Please."

He gripped the sword in both hands now, but still he did not strike. He did not want her to suffer needlessly, and could not determine how to do that.

Tauriel no longer paid him any mind, head bowed as she faced the one she loved. "If I can not be with you in life, I will be with you in death."

She knew the blow was coming, her instincts told her to parry, to block, to defend, but she let it come. Embraced it. She gasped, her eyes moving to Thranduil's face as he held the sword plunged through her heart. With the last ounce of her strength she smiled, "Thank you."

His knees gave out and he knelt before her, sword still in his hands and her heart, "I'm sorry." She shook her head minutely and looked back at Kili. He removed the sword as she fell, lying next to the dwarf she'd fallen in love with. He dropped the weapon like it burned, stained with her blood and that of the orcs he'd killed before. He wished he could have cleaned it. She deserved that at least.

She looked so peaceful, as though she were sleeping. They were both in an endless sleep, passed on to be with the many souls that had passed that day. They would be with others, the dwarf with his brother and uncle. Tauriel would be with Thranduil's wife, Legolas' mother.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Rest now. I can only hope this brings you peace." The tears fell then. She had been a fine warrior, a sister to his only child, one whom he could speak and have counsel with without prejudice of the actual Elven Council.

He did not stay for the burial of the dwarven lord and his only heirs. He stayed only long enough to ensure Tauriel would be buried with the dwarf.

"Do you not wish to take her back to your land?" Balin looked at him with veiled curiosity. Thranduil did not look at him, "No. She wished to be buried with him, if that is not too much to ask." His piercing gaze flickered to the eldest dwarf, who smiled, "Aye, tis not too much."

Thranduil gave a curt nod, "She loved him. It seems only fitting."

Balin nodded, "Aye. He loved her as well. You will find no objections." Thranduil nodded once more and tugged the reins of the horse he rode, turning it around to lead the few warriors he had left, back home.

He did not attend the funeral or burial. But he did stand atop the hill and overlook the dwarven procession as they carried their fallen into the mountain. He glimpsed Tauriel's figure, easily taller than the dwarven corpses, lain next to Kili as they were carried within the mountain. When they were out of sight, only then did he turn his mount back to his fortress in the woods, never to look back.

His sword lay in the ruins of that horrid north tower, unmoved and undisturbed from where it lay when he dropped it, and he would not go back for it. There was a sense of guilt he carried for what he'd done, but he knew it was for her own good.

She had asked him to.

" _Please, take it from me."_


End file.
